Roy L. Pickering Jr.'s Blog, page 8

RANDOM

I can't think of a specific topic I wish to write a blog post about. 2018 has been a trying year that I believe has temporarily sapped my creativity. But still, no matter how tough the going gets I will always remember to stop and smell the roses...or whatever flowers happen to be around. Things are looking up again after some scary revelations and I'm certain that creative juices will flow again soon enough. Until then, here's a little of this and a bit of that for your contemplation and enjoyment.

The race is on. pic.twitter.com/op9PvbdMX5— W (@WWarped) May 30, 2018

When Art comes alive pic.twitter.com/gaAAeq3hpX— Kengarex (@kengarex) June 4, 2018

#FilmStruck4 hashtag caused me to ponder which movies I found to be most impactful out of many great contenders.

#FilmStruck4 pic.twitter.com/deePng8cR8— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) April 19, 2018

You know who continues to be a colossal embarrassment.

Just the President of the United States saluting a North Korean general. Cool cool cool. pic.twitter.com/L5t94EKzkf— Parker Molloy (@ParkerMolloy) June 14, 2018

I love this picture of two true heroes.

Em: Turn your cap around
Me: Why
Em: Because it’s cool. Me: Ok

STARTING OVER FROM SCRATCH

#Print books and #Vinyl records will never go away no matter how much the world modernizes. Call me old fashioned but that's just the way I like it and will proudly proclaim with hashtags on social media sites like Instagram. #MattersOfConvenience is the book and Stevie Wonder's Musiquarium is what's spinning because old head music also never goes out of style. #bookstagramA post shared by Roy Pickering (@roylpickering_author) on Jun 18, 2018 at 2:11pm PDT

At some point in your life, probably at multiple points, you will find yourself needing to start over from scratch. It may in your control because the moment was reached by a decision you made to change things. I will lose 50 pounds. I will embark on a new career. I will end this marriage. Or it may be on account of circumstances beyond your control that needed to be adapted to and dealt with. I can't believe they downsized me. I was not prepared to wrestle with this illness. I never expected that s/he would leave me.

Regardless of how you reached the moment, what ultimately matters is how you move forward from it. The starting line of a marathon can be an intimidating place to be, but once you've hit your stride it ceases to matter much how much longer you still have to go. You're on your way and appreciating the journey that you know will get you to the desired destination. You will be healthy/employed/mentally and physically sound/ in love/ happy again. You're well on your way and no matter how slow time may seem to pass at times, somehow it still manages to go by in the blink of an eye. What looked impossible yesterday seems achievable today and tomorrow is proudly looked back upon as an accomplishment.

Of no importance to anyone else in the world but myself, in recent days I have become enamored with the idea of starting over from scratch musically. The reason for this is that to my great surprise, vinyl, which somehow had managed not to go away completely [unlike printed books which I intuitively KNEW would and could not be vanquished by e-readers, I figured record albums didn't stand a chance against audio files], was making an improbable comeback. Suddenly it seemed that everywhere I turned I was once again seeing turntables and records. Not too many 45's yet but plenty of 33-1/3's.





When I spotted a turntable in a second hand shop a few weeks back I could not resist buying it. I was ready to make my musical comeback and return to the world of record albums and the large, artistic covers they come packaged in. Never mind that these days if I want to hear a song, just about any song, I just need to call out "Alexa, play ____" and music magically appears. Chalk it up to the nostalgia that accompanies aging beyond a certain date in your life's calendar, or perhaps some other less understandable but equally pressing reason is the culprit.

Unfortunately the used turntable I bought did little more than turn. When it came to generating music, it was a total dud. But as fate would have it, Father's Day was right around the corner and my awesome wife gifted me with a new one. I was back in business!

In between turntables I took a trip to Barnes & Noble (still around, no longer the bully on the book block but a treasured provider, still selling print books along with record albums as their latest product addition) and re-started my record collection. All of the records purchased the first time around are gone baby gone. Either I threw my original acquisitions away as records gave way to CD's gave way to audio files, or else they're stored in one of the many boxes in my attic that I don't feel like combing through. Now that once again after all these years I find myself with a functioning turntable, I need to start over from scratch in building a record collection. And unlike the first time around I intend to give a great deal of thought into each purchase, to acquire nothing but classics that I'll never tire of.




What would be my very first phase 2 album purchase? I gave it considerable thought without falling into the trap of overthinking. And it didn't take me long to decide on the masterpiece which would relaunch my album collecting career.


It has been on repeat play since Father's Day but is getting lonely. Time to give Stevie Wonder's Original Musiquarium I some company. I don't know yet what album # 2 of my collection will be, though my head is spinning with ideas. Soon enough the record will be spinning on my turntable, at which point I'll no longer be starting over from scratch. I'll be on the road, taking the journey towards a destination that doesn't much matter what shape it takes. The first step and then the one after that and then the next and the next and the next is what matters. I plan to enjoy every single step and note of the trip.

HAND ME DOWN LIFE - a short story

Hand Me Down Life
By Roy L. Pickering Jr.

            “Why would he do such a thing?”            Austin expected no response to the question.  Evelyn put a hand on his shoulder.  There was little else his wife could do and absolutely nothing she could say that would bring clarity.  The confusion felt by Austin, like the pain, had been selfishly handed down to him by his brother Allen.  Neither gift could be refused.            Downstairs, the humble home of his parents was teeming with mourners.  Rather than mingling amongst them at the wake, Austin had brought Evelyn to the bedroom shared by he and Allen in childhood.  The room appeared much as it did way back when.  Their parents were the nostalgic type and had found no better purpose for the space than to keep it as a sort of museum.             Numerous sports trophies earned by the brothers in high school gleamed from the shelf their father had built to showcase them.  The dates on Allen’s trophies were all three years earlier than the dates on Austin’s.  For every race that Austin finished first in or championship game his team had come out on the winning end of, he was breaking no new ground, but merely duplicating the accomplishments of his big brother.            Turning to face his wife, Austin found himself hurtling through a time warp.  Evelyn was standing in nearly the exact same place as when he laid eyes on her for the first time.  It had been love at initial sighting, in spite of the words of introduction spoken by his brother.            “Austin, this is my girlfriend Eve.  Eve, meet my little brother.”            “Hi,” she said, capturing his heart and imagination with a single syllable.  But Austin put his desire on hold, for he was given little choice.  This was his brother’s girl, and as it would turn out, she remained so for nearly two years.  After their break-up, nine months passed until Austin crossed paths with her again.  Now that she was finally available, he vowed not to let her get away.  Charming her was the easy part.  They already knew their personalities to be a good match.  Mustering the courage to ask Allen if he had a problem with his little brother dating his ex-girlfriend was considerably more difficult.  But once the words were out, Allen simply tousled his air and congratulated him for landing such a great girl.            Austin picked up a photograph taken back when he was six years old, Allen half a foot taller at the age of nine.  The height disparity would be bridged in the following years, though Allen did manage to maintain a half inch advantage.  In the picture, Allen was staring straight ahead at the camera with a look of extreme confidence, as if knowing that he would come out looking great, both in the photo and in life.  Austin was captured in profile, gazing admiringly at his big brother, his mentor, his hero.            Allen wore a red cap, a plaid shirt, and a pair of dungarees.  The outfit was quite familiar to Austin, for these items were among several pieces of clothing that came into his own possession later on.  This was a pattern that would repeat itself throughout their lives.  Allen would acquire something, eventually outgrow it, and then it would be Austin’s turn to walk the same mile in inherited shoes.            Evelyn was looking at a photograph that was hanging on the wall.  It had been taken when the brothers were grown men.  Even as adults, Austin a family man and Allen a carefree bachelor, the two of them still saw each other nearly every day.  In the picture that had grabbed Evelyn’s attention, the brothers posed side by side in the uniforms of their chosen trade, two handsome young men who fought fires and saved lives. Noticing his wife’s gaze, Austin could not help but wonder if she was comparing the two great loves of her life; the very first one who ushered her into womanhood and called her Eve; the latter who gave her his name, fathered her children, and chose to call her Evelyn. “It’s amazing how strongly Lucas resembles him,” she said, speaking of their second born son, reminding Austin of how awful a chore it had been to tell his kids that their uncle had died.  There was a brief moment of hauntingly still silence, then Lance erupted with a wail of anguish, echoed a second later by his little brother.  Austin instantly knew that Lucas was crying more in reaction to Lance’s pain than to the sad news about Uncle Allen.  Lucas was too young to fully comprehend the nature of death yet.  He was the lucky one.“Mandy seems very nice.  What did she tell you?”Mandy was Allen’s girlfriend.  Neither of them had met her prior to the day of the funeral.  It was Mandy who found Allen’s body hideously splayed on the floor of her walk-in closet, the white carpeting already turned mostly crimson.“Nothing that explains anything,” Austin answered.  “She said he didn’t seem any different lately.  He didn’t appear to be unhappy.  He was a little withdrawn, a little quiet, but he’d been that way for as long as she’d known him.  I don’t think her shock has fully worn off yet.”“Has yours?”“I’ve spoken barely a dozen words to Allen in the last six months.  Things changed between us after the fire at Briarwood Towers.  I don’t think he ever got over it.  Hell, how are you supposed to get over something like that?”Allen had gotten within eight feet of the three children trapped in the blaze, within a few seconds of rescuing them from the merciless blaze, when a beam suddenly gave way and a large portion of the ceiling came crashing down upon them before his disbelieving eyes.  Shortly afterwards, he announced his resignation from the fire department.  Austin’s last extensive conversation with him had taken place when he dropped by to talk his brother out of the hasty decision.“Why don’t you just take a long vacation, take some time to get your head together.  You’re great at your job, Allen.  The rest of us all look up to you.  You’re a real live hero, man, and there’s far too few of those.  You did everything you could to save those kids.  There just wasn’t enough time to get to them.  You more than anyone knows the nature of the work we do.  Sometimes the fire gets too big of a head start.  Sometimes the fire wins.”“Don’t lecture me with my own words, little brother.  I know what I’m doing.  I know why I need to do it.  I’m no hero.  I’ve done nothing to warrant being anybody’s role model.”  Allen then lifted the bottle of vodka he was holding up to his mouth, taking a long swig.  “I thought you didn’t drink anymore.  Didn’t you learn your lesson after drinking yourself out of college?”“Never you mind what I learned,” Allen spewed.  “That’s your damn problem.  Always minding what I do, imitating what I’ve experienced instead of looking for your own way to live.”“I’d almost forgotten how stupid alcohol makes you.  First comes the self-pity, then the lashing out at people who love you and have your best interests at heart.”“Let’s not change the subject.  We were talking about you.  About how you’ve spent your whole life snacking off of my leftovers.  You had good grades in school.  You could have gone to college, become whatever it is you wanted to be.  But instead you followed me into the fire department, just as you’ve always followed behind me.  You’ve never made your own choices.  You’ve never even bothered to search for your own way.  You just hitched onto the tail end of mine.”“If that’s how you feel, that’s how you feel,” Austin said, hearing the quaver of hurt in his voice, unable to control it.  “How come you never told me you felt this way about me before?  You might have spoken your mind about it a lot sooner.” “Why?  To make you stop following me like a puppy dog?  Sure, I could have swatted you on the nose and sent you scurrying away.  But I didn’t want to embarrass you and make you feel like shit.  I kept waiting for you to outgrow it, to finally step out of my shadow and become your own person.  I figured that had to happen eventually.  But it didn’t.  You’ve been content being the poor man’s version of me.”“Fuck you, Allen.  I came here to give you my support.  I came because you’re my brother.  I love you, and I don’t want you to screw up your life.  The bottle has always made you an asshole.  Don’t put yourself through that hell again.  Don’t put your family through it again.  What happened in that building was a terrible thing.  That fire claimed three innocent lives.  Don’t let it destroy yours as well.  Putting that bottle to your mouth is no different that putting a gun barrel to you head.  It’s only a little slower.”“Before you start acting holier than thou, make sure you have your facts straight,” Allen said.  “I didn’t start drinking again because of those kids dying.  If you must know, I started back drinking more than a month ago.”“What?”“I was drinking the night before the fire.  And I drank earlier that morning too.  I wasn’t completely sober when I was trying to get to those kids.  I was doing my job as well as I could do it under the circumstances, and maybe they would have died on me no matter what.  But there’s no way for me to know for sure.  What I do know is that I won’t ever be able to put on my uniform again without the question coming to mind.  So I won’t be putting it on any more.  I want that chapter of my life behind me for good.  You can have my share of the superhero business.”“I think you’re being a fool,” Austin said, for he was too stunned to say much of anything else.“You going to judge me, little brother?  Well if you are, at least have the courtesy to judge yourself first.  Figure out why you’ve spent your life copycatting me.  Figure out just what you’re so insecure about.  Why is it that you can’t take a road unless it already has my footprints on it?  Hell, you even married one of my castoffs.”The punch that Austin threw with perfect form landed flush on his brother’s jaw, knocking him to the floor.  Allen looked up in a daze as the liquor bottle by his side emptied its contents and Austin walked out of the apartment.Austin never revealed in full to Evelyn the specifics of the argument.  It was the closest thing to a secret that he had kept from her since the days of not revealing his desire while she was dating his brother.  One week later Allen apologized for his behavior, laying the blame on drunkenness and bad timing.  True to his word, he did not return to work.  From that point on he made his presence increasingly scarce, as if hoping that absence would make the heart grow amnesia.  Austin was convinced that he continued to drink, but had no idea what if anything could be done about it.Six months passed quietly by.  Then one day Austin received a phone call from his father.  His obviously distraught mother could be heard in the background.  A woman named Mandy had just contacted them.  She said that Allen had been living with her.  She said that earlier that day she had gone out for half an hour to do some shopping.  In the time that she was gone, Allen stepped into a closet with a loaded pistol and shot himself in the head.A few days later, Austin found himself staring at a photograph in his old bedroom.  It depicted two boys whose lives were ahead of them, siblings often likened to peas in a pod, the younger idolizing the elder.  For as far back as he could remember, Austin had wanted to be just like his big brother.  He emulated Allen’s actions, mimicked his choices.  Allen served as a dependable roadmap, showing a shy child how to be a brave boy, an easily intimidated youth how to become a courageous man.  Yet that map had led to this strange and awful place, so far away from the aura of optimism exuded from Allen’s eyes in the childhood snapshot.Physically, there was no mistaking Austin and Allen for anything but brothers.  They shared the penetrating eyes of their father, the full lips of their mother, and possessed identical sets of dimples.  But when Austin compared the photo of he and Allen as boys to the one of them as men, he saw that their resemblance to one another was stronger in youth.  This he attributed to a small change in Allen’s features that had not yet occurred at the time of the earlier picture.  The small scar just off to the side of his left eye had been earned when he was fifteen years old.  On that long past but most memorable night, Austin made the regrettable mistake of succumbing to curiosity and examining their father’s prized collection of baseball memorabilia.  He had been told time and time again that the items were for display purposes only, but examining the mythical objects of sports lore up close seemed harmless enough, a victimless act of rebellion. Less than fifteen minutes after their father arrived home that evening, he summoned his sons to the study.  In his hand was the top half of a uniform autographed by the great Lou Brock.  The jelly stain unknowingly left behind on the collar stood out blatantly to the boys as they stepped timidly forward.“Which one of you did this?”“I-I-I…” Austin took a moment to catch his breath.  He had been a witness to his father’s hairpin trigger temper often enough to have a fair idea what was in store for him.  The stutter that he was still years away from overcoming was always at its worst in the unforgiving presence of his father.“It was me, Dad.”For a second Austin thought that he had managed to speak without opening his mouth or willing the words to be uttered.  But in the next second he grasped that it was actually Allen who had confessed, even though he was guiltless.      “Boy, how many times have I told you that these are not toys?”“Many times.”The backhanded slap that followed rivaled the swiftness of a cobra’s strike.  It knocked Allen to the floor, and because of the ring on their father’s finger, it inadvertently drew blood.“Then you should know better, shouldn’t you?”“Yes sir,” Allen answered.His lesson taught, their father walked out of the room, dropping a handkerchief on the floor as parting gift.  Austin retrieved it and handed it to his brother, who dabbed at the fresh wound that would mark him for life.“Thanks,” Austin said.“Don’t sweat it.  That’s what big brothers are for.”As grateful as he was for Allen’s playing the part of sacrificial lamb, Austin did not fully understand why his brother had volunteered for undeserved punishment.  Now these many years later, he could not fathom the pain his brother must have been in over the past several months, perhaps much longer.  Nor could he make sense of Allen’s decision to take his own life rather than waiting for better days to come.  Then again, his brother had never been particularly patient.Tears began to fall onto the picture frame in Austin’s hand.  His father and brother always said that tears were a sign of weakness.  But what did either of them know?  One had no idea how to be a father.  The other quit on things when they got too tough.  These had been Austin’s shining examples of manhood. Austin let his tears flow, because crying at least gave him temporary respite from trying to figure out what had gone so tragically wrong.  He had grown uncertain of all things, except for the leaden realization that there would be no more footsteps for him to follow throughout life.  Only open road.

Just because...

A beautiful, and heartbreaking, remembrance of Prince: His original studio recording of Nothing Compares 2 U, set to footage of Prince & the Revolution rehearsing in the summer of 1984 when the song was recorded. https://t.co/5n6K0VFRuA

WHO CARES WHO GETS CREDIT FOR PROGRESS?

In recent days it appears that the anti-gun movement in America has gained significant traction. Much of the credit is going to classmates of murdered students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, FL. Those kids are receiving plenty of press and have proven adept at utilizing it along with social media to get their message out. How far it will go remains to be seen. So long as Trump is in the White House and we have a GOP dominated congress with various allegiances to NRA campaign funding, I'm not especially hopeful no matter how many magazine covers those well spoken, well meaning kids end up on. But this too shall pass. Fast forward to 2020 and if both the presidency and congress look a lot different than the current dumpster fire, perhaps meaningful action will finally be taken.

Not that I'll be holding my breath. Somehow Sandy Hook wasn't the ultimate game changer, and the victims there were practically babies. Go back further to when beloved Republican icon Ronald Reagan was shot. That got us the Brady Bill and that's about it. No matter how good these Marjory Stoneman Douglas HS kids are on camera, it doesn't mean that their outrage will mean much more than their personal allotments of 15 minutes of fame.

With that said, I'm all for supporting the movement for increased gun regulations while it at least temporarily has a head of steam. I'm not alone in lending support, just as I wasn't alone pre Sandy Hook when writing with great exasperation about why guns seem to have been afforded more of a right to flourish than people. Yet I've noticed something troubling in my twitter feed. Popping up every so often will be a gripe about the attention these kids are getting. I'm not referring to gun owning conservative Republicans who have the words of the 2nd Amendment stitched on their pillow cases. I'm talking about liberal leaning likely Democrats who agree that laws must be enacted to strengthen gun regulations and save lives. They too want to loosen the NRA's vise grip on our national conscience. But they're a little ticked off that this particular set of kids is receiving so much attention for keeping the gun conversation spotlighted rather than certain predecessors whom they feel were snubbed.

This is not a helpful point of view. Envy is not a good look. Who cares who gets credit for progress so long as progress is made? It doesn't matter which particular group of activists spurred on by which tragedy ends up with the most appearances on CNN and MSNBC. So long as something FINALLY happens to bring about change for the better, it's a well earned victory for humanity. Long before the #MeToo movement started popping after certain high profile women spoke up against certain high profile men, there were women who spoke up who failed to earn a hashtag for the effort. What ultimately matters is that the NEXT woman who speaks up, and not necessarily one with a high profile but perhaps your neighbor or perhaps even you, will be more likely to be taken seriously as result of heightened awareness. The Snowball Effect requires a great deal of rolling before what started out small enough to hold in one hand ends up the size of a boulder. So long as momentum is maintained, eventually it becomes too large and weighty to ignore.

Outrage over slowness to arrest the killer of Trayvon Martin. Unrest in Ferguson, MO over the killing of Mike Brown. People declaring that we CAN'T BREATHE when justice is choked out of us in wake of the murder of Eric Garner. Citizens of Baltimore, MD declaring enough is enough after the killing of Freddie Gray. The toppling of confederate statues after so many years accepting their presence along with that traitorous Dukes of Hazard flag. I could easily go on with example after example of matters coming to a boil. Regardless of the varying degrees of results achieved, they can all be seen as watershed moments for a righteous cause. An individual may be moved to more tears of outrage in certain cases than others. Perhaps you wanted the event that struck closest to your home to be the most notable game changer. Jordan Davis murdered by Michael Dunn over "loud music" should have been the tipping point. Valid stance. Renisha McBride shot dead on Theodore Wafer's porch hoping to get assistance after a car crash should have been the start of the revolution. I hear you. How about the sad case of Aiyana Jones? Shouldn't a death that senseless have resulted in urgent willingness to make things make greater sense?

Those tragedies all made splashes. Some resulted in slogans. Collectively they launched an organization/mindset called Black Lives Matter. Politicians have and will continue to utilize whichever one seems most likely to move the needle in their favor. The people will continue to #Resist the corrupt powers that be, and those in power will resist our push for change. Every so often circumstances will align in a way that yields tangible results. Once upon a time the culmination of a very long fight for equality was The Civil Rights Act of 1964. Perhaps The Gun Control Act of 2020 is a reachable star. And if it is, maybe for a variety of reasons more credit will go to white high school kids Parkland, FL than will go to victims of gang violence in Chicago, IL.

But you know what? If The Gun Control Act of 2020 ends up an actual thing that comes to fruition, mattering most won't be who gets how great a share of credit for it. What will matter is fewer guns on the streets of Chicago and other inner cities. Fewer bullets hitting intended targets as well as unfortunate souls who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. What will matter is fewer mass shootings in high schools and elementary schools and concerts and wherever else they happen. Shootings won't be stamped out completely. Guns bought legally today will be purchased illegally tomorrow, and some of them will be obtained by madmen with evil intent. We can't eliminate senseless violence because we can't eradicate evil. What we can do is make the sudden loss of multiple lives more difficult to be managed by a lone individual with deranged mind plus an arsenal of weaponry. What we can do is act like we give a shit.

Once we do, if we ever do, I won't give credit to any one activist, or politician, or group of kids, or specific march, or particular hashtag. I'll credit everybody who stood up to evil and those who profit from it and said NO MORE. Perhaps it's time to accept that the days of lone heroes/martyrs such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. or Malcolm X receiving the lion's share of credit for social progress are behind us. Yes, there will be certain spokespeople with greater face and name recognition than the rest. It could be a football player who puts himself in the line of fire. Or someone paid to talk on TV about one thing who feels compelled to use the platform to speak in their social media feed on another. Maybe a skinny black guy in a blue vest. Perhaps a high school girl with a buzz cut. No matter. In this new age we find ourselves in, what truly heals the world is our collective voice.

FIGHT THE POWER

Love this one pic.twitter.com/XRI7SYRTee— Janet Jones (@janetjones3001) March 24, 2018

11-year old Naomi Wadler: "I am here to acknowledge and represent the African-American girls whose stories don't make the front page of every national newspaper, whose stories don't lead on the evening news." #MarchForOurLives (via CBS) pic.twitter.com/o6UkEuxemd— Kyle Griffin (@kylegriffin1) March 24, 2018

Bookish Tweets and Book Reviews

I've been reading books again, it's like being online but without getting nauseous from anger every 2-3 minutes.— Sean Thomason (@TheThomason) January 28, 2018

Which author do you recommend to your friends the most?— goodreads (@goodreads) January 27, 2018

There are certain books I'd recommend to just about everyone even if not necessarily every book by that author.. Read The World According to Garp. Read Geek Love. Read The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Read Love in the Time of Cholera.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 27, 2018

Trying to decide which author I'd recommend to a random unknown person whom I know nothing about. If I know somebody I'd have have an idea what type of books would be most likely to appeal to them. Who would be safest choice to cover all types of book fans? Maybe Pat Conroy.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 27, 2018

#AmReading All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr. Another notch in my belt of Pulitzer Prize winning novels read. A Line A Day: Pulitzer Prize Winners https://t.co/PbgXuvvqEI pic.twitter.com/nWyldYzqKw— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) February 2, 2018

The four stages of writing...#writerslife #amwriting pic.twitter.com/bMwHArbK3h— Morgan Wright (@byMorganWright) January 12, 2018

"Everybody who writes is interested in living inside themselves in order to tell what is inside themselves…”https://t.co/e0roa6kTUt#amwriting #writing #writinglife— Jon Winokur (@AdviceToWriters) January 18, 2018

Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing.
AUGUST WILSON#amwriting #drama #writing pic.twitter.com/8xzQtASj6e— Jon Winokur (@AdviceToWriters) January 24, 2018

The thing that defines a writer is that the writer writers. #writerslife #amwriting pic.twitter.com/oRDJpCqDYv— Morgan Wright (@byMorganWright) February 1, 2018

A Line A Day: Writer Defined https://t.co/21VPOr3z1Z pic.twitter.com/3XbnQFhGbT— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) February 1, 2018

Take refuge in these novels about love for single people on Valentine's Day: https://t.co/ptUUrTK3vy pic.twitter.com/x9N2L8E6yH— Book Riot (@BookRiot) January 22, 2018

Gotta love love stories - https://t.co/umiOm4Vw1d Am I right? https://t.co/Re66Zd4Gj6 https://t.co/KwZv1kgFJD— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 30, 2018

Favorite this. I'll start my thread on fiction/non-fiction books on the Caribbean here.— Morally Corrupt Faye Resnick (@VivaciousWritin) September 23, 2017

Can serialized fiction make a comeback? This company is betting on ithttps://t.co/NaB93HbfZf— Simon Owens (@simonowens) January 24, 2018

FEEDING THE SQUIRRELS: A Novella Serialized & Now for the First Time Ever as a Thread (Prologue) https://t.co/L9x4Ey13e8 My story begins before its beginning, with a prologue— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

Because of a packing mishap, I had to buy a copy of my own book in the airport & the cashier said "you know if this book is any good?" & I was gonna make a joke like "YEAH IT'S NOT BAD SUSAN BUT I HEAR THE AUTHOR IS A REAL JERK" but then I realized that would only be funny to me— Hanif Abdurraqib (@NifMuhammad) January 31, 2018

The word of the day is... pic.twitter.com/Go7IuMuw1s— goodreads (@goodreads) January 9, 2018

Anyway, here’s to the new year, you writers, you readers, you silly others. pic.twitter.com/HUwDCionYp— Lauren Groff (@legroff) January 1, 2018

pic.twitter.com/HnhpIXTrqp— Effin' Birds (@EffinBirds) December 30, 2017

Posting this quote from John Waters every year is my only holiday tradition. pic.twitter.com/bw33udtWKs— Liberty

XFL REVISITED

There are highly anticipated remakes/re-imaginings (for example, Bladerunner 2049) and then there's Vince McMahon recycling an idea that flopped the first time around with an added side of MAGA family values. Are you ready for some XFL football?!!  No? Well, I can't say that I blame you. Maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised the second time out, but I wouldn't bet much more than a wooden nickel on it.



In case you're too young to remember the original XFL, or have worked really hard on forgetting it over the past couple decades, here's a refresher course - REMEMBER THE XFL?

But times have changed of course, since that is precisely what times are built to do. The upcoming XFL will be vastly different from the original version according to P.T. Barnum, I mean, Vince McMahon.

Vince McMahon is relaunching the XFL, promising a "shorter, faster-paced, family-friendly, and easier to understand" re-imagining of football. pic.twitter.com/0QCqcdjoRO— SportsCenter (@SportsCenter) January 25, 2018

Just football.

No politics. No social issues. #XFL2020— XFL Football (@realXFLfootball) January 26, 2018

8 teams.
40 man rosters.
10 game season.
4 team semi-finals
1 championship game#XFL #XFL2020 pic.twitter.com/Au7bVyOJFo— #XFL2020 (@ItsXFL2020) January 25, 2018

Vince says he wants no players with any sort of criminal record. Even if you had a DUI, you will not be welcome to play in the XFL. #xfl2020— Jason Solomon (@solomonster) January 25, 2018

BREAKING: @VinceMcMahon’s new league will be called the XFL. Will start in Jan. 2020, have eight teams, players required to stand for National Anthem & Johnny Manziel is NOT eligible to play https://t.co/KEJA6Q4fua— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) January 25, 2018

When Johnny Manziel thought he could play in the XFL ... pic.twitter.com/ofHNyOdo2T— Steven R. Walker (@Steve_R_Walker) January 25, 2018

#XFL https://t.co/2M9MLZH1BP Because we just can't get enough football - https://t.co/i4nmXz5UfN https://t.co/1OsxxNvapL— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 25, 2018

The new XFL will be a "single entity sports league"--meaning the league will own everything, including the teams. This will have many ramifications for how the league operates and how it employs players. I explain in a new @theMMQB article: https://t.co/bZhD3NtMFu pic.twitter.com/N1sOfTwZ4J— Michael McCann (@McCannSportsLaw) January 26, 2018

As MINIMAL qualification to be a XFL team you should play and defeat the Browns in an entry test game— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 25, 2018

Colin Kaepernick said he's ready to go back to kneeling for the anthem so maybe, if he isn't blackballed for some other equally stupid reason, the XFL can become a home for him. Guessing he's not interested though. https://t.co/EbPiEKzhKn— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 25, 2018

Do pro wrestlers kneel for the anthem before pretending to fight each other or does Vince not make them do that?— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 25, 2018

Vince McMahon on his new football league requiring players to stand during the National Anthem: "It's a time honored tradition to stand."— Darren Rovell (@darrenrovell) January 25, 2018

Vince McMahon built his fortune on death, rampant steroid abuse (including his own), grotesque sexism, and racist minstrelsy. But by all means: stand for that flag. https://t.co/MUxpEoFN80— Dave Zirin (@EdgeofSports) January 25, 2018

Interesting that Vince McMahon once thought his XFL would do well b/c it was designed to be sexier & more violent than NFL. Flash forward to older Vince and he thinks his league will do well b/c it's more family friendly. May as well be called GOPFL.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

Apparently his WWE has been trending in a more PG direction for years. News to me since I haven't watched that kind of stuff for ages. I guess WWE is no longer Playboy-lite with violence added to mix.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

XFL is billed to be safer than NFL. Assuming it's still TACKLE football I'm curious to see how that will be the case. Maybe he has patent on new helmet technology that will eliminate neck injuries and concussions. Probably not though.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

A Man's Game: https://t.co/VHis2ESRED #NFL #XFL? https://t.co/sPvaiUlIHL— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 27, 2018

Physics remains physics. Big fast dudes repeatedly running into each other is going to result in injuries. But being gluttons for the punishment of others we probably wouldn't watch professional flag football or 2-hand touch.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

XFL supposedly will avoid any interference by politics and/or social issues as if life politely asks for permission to interrupt the serious business of grown men playing ball for a living. Maybe they should use robots to deter the unsavory human impulse to express one's self.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

Vince McMahon's wife works for Trump. So while the XFL "won't be political" that is simply coded language for it won't tolerate expression of liberal leaning beliefs. Yesterday's He Hate Me is tomorrow's MAGA.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

XFL will probably do about as well in its 2nd go round as Trump has done in his go round at the presidency. Okay, maybe not quite that god awful. But it's not likely to be pretty if the main attraction is "Zero DUI's on the field!!!".— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 25, 2018

It’s the “family friendly” part that’s truly hilarious. I really want to know what “family-friendly football” looks like. Does it drive a minivan? https://t.co/ZaF84W4Pf9— Jemele Hill (@jemelehill) January 26, 2018

NFL ratings have been going down for years because the games don't remind people enough of episodes of The Waltons. https://t.co/MJFKgPWpLF— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

XFL is basically an NFL for Trump supporters, its creation is a naked attempt at monetising a divided America | Via Independent https://t.co/lUSGDHQKAU— SafetyPin-Daily (@SafetyPinDaily) January 26, 2018

I’m legitimately concerned the XFL is going to be used as a political device and if that doesn’t tell you where we are at in 2018...— Hardwood Paroxysm (@HPbasketball) January 26, 2018

I don't watch sports to see exhibitions of civil disobedience. I know they're paid to play, not protest. Every job has restrictions on free speech with the exception of self employment. But hiding from real life is an exercise in futility. Life happens and must be faced head on.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

A Line A Day: When Sports and Social Issues Collide https://t.co/oasE0oLm8U— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

XFL's "criminality" ban and implied anti-protest rule are definitely not about race, no sir. https://t.co/NU3bmFb91Y pic.twitter.com/l3rGIvjKCt— Deadspin (@Deadspin) January 26, 2018

Criminality ban doesn't mean anti-black. Kinda like how blacks are no more like monkeys than whites. Granted, we know there are bigots who equate black people to both categories. I don't take the bait and cry racism even if I suspect racist motivation. H&M & Vince don't bother me https://t.co/1i62EAbXdM— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

At least one guy doesn't think that the XFL will actually come back. That would be the writer of this piece.

The new XFL is dumb as hell but thank God it's not actually real: https://t.co/2DWotiN9oP pic.twitter.com/5seWMmK1IN— Deadspin (@Deadspin) January 26, 2018

USFL comeback on deck?— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 26, 2018

There is SO MUCH going on in the world in 2018, SO MANY diversions, distractions and diverse forms of entertainment vying for our limited attention spans. 2020 will look no different except that there will be even more going on all at the same time, even if much of it is in the same place, that being the smart phone in the palm of your hand. So the XFL has a very steep uphill climb to become a thing that actually sticks around for a few years.  The task ahead of Vince McMahon will be almost as difficult as this one...

No idea what this game is called, but whoever made it, is the devil. pic.twitter.com/Ec98aGXSDD— Steve Noah (@Steve_OS) January 24, 2018

FAIR TRADE

Below is the first one of my short stories to ever be published. The time feels right to present it here at A LINE A DAY as my first #ShortStorySunday entry of 2018. Now that so many of my tales have been presented here, I'll need to write some new ones soon to avoid running out of material. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to let me know if you do since writers are fueled by compliments. 

Questionable Attire

woke up this morning shocked and embarrassed by this photo. i’m deeply offended and will not be working with @hm anymore... pic.twitter.com/P3023iYzAb— The Weeknd (@theweeknd) January 8, 2018

I believe little kids of all races/ethnic groups should be able to be referred to as "little monkey" with the same amount of (zero) controversy. I don't lose it over controversies like the H&M ad b/c all I see is a black boy with a jungle theme sweatshirt, not automatic insult.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Obviously once historical context is considered, I get the whole "blacks were insultingly called monkeys/apes/etc. by racist whites for YEARS" thing. And of course there are bigots who continue to do it to this day. H&M should have known this & acted accordingly. Swap kids/shirts— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

But that's merely putting a band-aid on a direct hit gun wound. Rather than H&M and other advertisers having to tip toe over which kid it's ok to call a little monkey & which one will result in angry think pieces, I'd love for kids to just be seen as differently shaded kids.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

People should be able to comfortably refer to any kid they want as their little monkey if that kid happens to spend a bunch of time hanging from jungle gyms at the park. It's a standard operating procedure childhood activity with no racial distinctions. Just go to any park & see.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

That's my own personal version of MLK's Dream. I'm old enough to remember when Howard Cosell got himself in big trouble describing Alvin Garrett. I never believed that Cosell had malicious intent & I'm not about to yell at H&M either.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Cosell's remark was a slip of the tongue that couldn't be retracted once released in spur of moment. H&M had the benefit of all the time in the world to decide which kids would pose with which messages on which hoodies. They did what they did anyway. I wonder why. On purpose?— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

If on purpose: Why? To insult every single potential black purchaser because they only see money as green when handed to them by white people? Because across the board of H&M ad reviewers they're legitimately that clueless? Or to stir the pot & draw extra attention to themselves?— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

I don't know. I don't even much care, really. I remain capable of seeing a black kid reading a book & not thinking of monkeys, and of seeing a white kid hanging from a branch & thinking "look at that 'little non-literal monkey' having a blast". No insult intended towards either kid.


 In this case I mostly see the point of those who are pissed at the ad because it's too hard to believe H&M didn't know better, that they didn't realize the nerves that would be hit. Certainly there are a fair number of people who see these things before someone presses send for it to go live. Not a single person at H&M voiced concern over how the photo would be perceived, particularly in this day and age, with amateur self-appointed PC police carefully scanning social media for any misstep? They had to know people would take offense and raise a fuss over this. Either they didn't care (highly unlikely) or they were courting the obvious response it would elicit. Bad publicity is better than no publicity? Like I said, I don't pretend to know H&M's motives nor do I much care. It's all too deju vu. I've seen this movie quite a few times before. The end is not going to take me by surprise AT ALL.

Every year there seems to be at least a handful of upset reactions to ads that are viewed as racial insults rather than some company simply trying to sell a product. Sometimes I see the anger as valid but often I view it as overreaction that says more about person than advertiser— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Remember WAY over the top reactions to the ad (Gap, I think) with a bunch of kids in a row, and one girl (white) happened to have an arm leaned on head of another girl (black), so Twitter lost its mind? Totally innocent pose made even more so when we learned the girls are sisters— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

I didn't think piece on that one, merely SMH rigorously at why anyone would take offense. But I did jot some musings down about the Vogue cover controversy https://t.co/DA2eU78iUj & the Essence cover controversy https://t.co/xlluIN7K51 back in the day.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

And let us not forget the "Re-Civilize Yourself" Nivea ad that pissed folks off. Referenced it towards end of this post at A Line a Day - "Here I Am...OR...Hair I Am" https://t.co/KLrpPl6L0g— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Buy your kid a t-shirt with whatever message on it u want. If u can think of something cooler than what you see being offered, ordering custom designed t-shirts is extremely easy with no shortage of options. Put "my kid is a king" or "Oprah 2020" or whatever the hell u want on it— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Here's a suggestion - Here's another.

When a clothing advertisement legitimately pisses me off because it seems aimed to racially alienate, I'll let you know. For now my focus is on the bigots that voters let into the White House, & on those who who influence decision making process from right outside the door.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

And now for the "ending" that could be seen coming a mile away...

H&M apologizes for 'Coolest Monkey' sweatshirt ad featuring black child https://t.co/RIWlqHXR4O #FoxNews— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Amazes me how quickly the power of social media can make a company apologize and plead for mercy, yet when it came to getting the right person elected president a year ago, it was powerless. Minor accomplishments got folks puffing out chests while the achievements that most matter stay undone.

Why that Winona Ryder shampoo commercial stirred up such a frenzy: https://t.co/T6DQreyMUk pic.twitter.com/PZXg9oz3mJ— Slate (@Slate) January 8, 2018

Y'all really need to stop overthinking these ads. The purpose of ALL of them if to get people to buy their sh*t. That's it. https://t.co/S1oQREs0WN— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 8, 2018

Brands have figured a new marketing strategy. Outraging the black community by being insensitive/controversial so we can speak about it, and make them trend... it keeps happening. Especially cos they know no one really stops buying, the 'boycotts' all end online. https://t.co/cjZNuOfnpc— your daddy (@iEatGreymatter) January 8, 2018

Bingo! https://t.co/YvsV97XUGS— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 9, 2018

I am WAY more disturbed by that Logan Paul idiot than I am by H&M. I'm the father of an 11 year old. She knows she's no monkey & kid in coolest monkey in jungle hoodie wouldn't bother her at all. She loved Logan Paul's videos. That shit legit influences her & her peers. Asshole!— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 11, 2018

Mother of #HM hoodie model responds to backlash, tells us to 'get over it' https://t.co/BBlEJwbheD pic.twitter.com/bl1UF3mzLT— Blavity (@Blavity) January 10, 2018

South African protesters trashed H&M stores in response to a 'racist' ad pic.twitter.com/tUTV40H1M8— NowThis (@nowthisnews) January 13, 2018

All of the H&M t-shirt backlash reminds me of that time I was inspired to write about a FASHION STATEMENT https://t.co/nR4qwELLul— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 9, 2018

Watch Weekend Update: Eddie Murphy on the First Black Astronaut from Saturday Night Live on https://t.co/3cYfnP8EuG — https://t.co/uvmn2sC91T— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) January 11, 2018

2017 Recap

I began the year by giving my two cents on the subject of diversity in book publishing. We need to hear from a greater range of voices in literature. We need to amplify those of us who are telling stories in #OurOwnVoices. What we probably don't need to do is get angry and shout down every white author / white character. Diversity means everybody, including those who are currently over-represented.  But some more of those who are under-represented sure would be nice.







I made my very first book trailer! I think it's awesome. I don't know if many people outside of my household like it too. I have no idea if it's helped me to sell a single copy of Matters of Convenience. But I'm still prouder and more pleased by it than I have reasonable right to be. Go me!

Selfie buddiesA post shared by Roy Pickering (@roylpickering_author) on Sep 29, 2017 at 7:58pm PDT

Technically it was at the end of 2016 (a few days before Christmas) that my family acquired a dog. The one and only SHADOW!!!  He was a ceaseless source of amusement and affection throughout 2017. I don't know if everyone should have a dog, but certainly every WRITER should have a dog. As it turns out, I got the BEST one.







I wrote installments #1 and #2 in the Ava Appelsawse book series. One of my resolutions for 2018 is to get going on #3 while my wife completes illustrations for the first book. Publication date TBD.







Speaking of my wife, I saw how much she was enjoying Instagram so decided to join up too. I set up an account. I got hacked. I set up a replacement account. That one got hacked as well. I seriously considered surrendering but decided to give it one more shot. The third try has proven to be the charm. I still have plenty of exploring to do on there, but one treasure I did discover in 2017 was Bookstagram .







I partially embraced my inner nerd in 2017 and attended a Comic Con for the first time. It was a fantastic experience, definitely one to be repeated. Perhaps in 2018 I'll go full nerd and attend in high quality, budget bending costume. I think I'd make an awesome Black Panther.






I urged people to buy more books, particularly of the ink printed on paper variety. This is something I'll do every year until you guys are buying so many books (perhaps even some of mine) that I no longer feel the need. Until that magical moment happens, here's yet another reminder from me to BUY BOOKS.






Statues were toppled. I found this to be a good thing because those particular statues were testaments to bigotry and segregation and race based oppression and hatred. Surely a person can reside below the Mason Dixon line and be a proud southerner on account of something other than being on the losing side of the Civil War. The good guys won it for a righteous cause. Hanging on to confederate symbols of the battle to retain slavery is not a good look.





Mother Nature lost her mind and did a great deal of damage as hurricanes (and earthquakes and wildfires and...) followed each other in rapid succession. Among the devastated places was my beloved birthplace of St. Thomas, USVI. Also nearby Puerto Rico. Unfortunately we currently have a president who does not seem to realize that the people who live there are fellow Americans. He certainly doesn't believe that man caused climate change is a reality to be dealt with. Too much of 2017 was unfortunately spent being angered and sickened by Trump's behavior. But being furious all the time isn't good for the soul. Sometimes you gotta do whatever is required to generate a sense of calm even as the world is falling apart around you.






One of the ridiculously unfortunate aftereffects of the absurd election of Donald Trump (in addition to irritating Jemele Hill so much that she got herself suspended) was the normalization of Nazis by members of the media who have apparently lost their damn minds in pursuit of click bait. So I felt compelled to shout out to people in the back row who somehow missed why we fought World War II and seemingly have never seen an Indiana Jones movie or any of the countless other films and TV shows which clearly showcase that the Nazis are the bad guys .





As I began my year in blogging by writing about the diversity (or lack thereof) in book publishing, so I ended 2017 writing about Sensitivity Readers. It's a topic that inspires much passion on both sides of the debate. I wonder what a sensitivity reader might have said pre-publication of Patches of Grey, or in advance of the release of Matters of Convenience. Will manuscripts for The Absolutely Amazing Adventures of Ava Appelsawse pass before the eyes of a sensitivity reader before being given a thumbs up? Probably not. But that's just a guess on my part for it's in the future, something that I along with all of you know nothing with certainty about.

You need a book with SENSITIVITY

Sensitivity readers are only controversial if you ignore the fact that in this diverse country, it is entirely possible to publish a book that has been selected, read, and edited by only white people— Brit Bennett (@britrbennett) December 27, 2017

This is why I've been saying for years that authors from the margins must be twice as good to get half as far. They have to write *in ways that White gatekeepers will understand.*

I have had EXACTLY this conversation with authors you'd recognize. https://t.co/FnnqAtQ01a— Ebony Elizabeth (@Ebonyteach) December 28, 2017

I've found many articles/posts on the need for sensitivity readers in publishing. A reason given for the need in most pieces is the lack of African American editors. Gender is also cited. As 1 who works in publishing I can say I've seen no shortage of women, but def a lack of AAs— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

When I graduated college my plan was to become a book editor while working on the side as a book writer. I interviewed for many editorial jobs but wasn't offered a single one. I don't believe this is b/c I was terrible at interviewing.

My resume must have looked decent b/c I was called in to interview for most of the jobs I applied for. But for some reason I didn't "have what it takes" to receive a job offer. So I expanded my search net to jobs in other areas of book publishing.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

Publishing seemed so glamorous. I wanted in somehow, some way, thru whichever door was opened. My main desire was to embark on road to becoming an editor, but as time passed, pressure mounted, & mostly what I wanted was a job offer of some kind. Ideally from a publisher or agent.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

I vividly recall one interview for a job as a mfg. buyer that went particularly well. My confidence rose with each minute. But at the end the interviewer told me it seemed obvious I wanted to be an editor, and if they gave me the job I would prbly switch depts. 1st chance I got.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

Eventually I did get a job in publishing. It was in manufacturing which means the job was to work with printers to provide what inventory said needed to be brought into stock. I was finally IN, but not as I had envisioned.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

I was burnt out, happy to have a job, move out of parents' home, start grown-up life. I got to meet a bunch of editors. But I ceased trying to become one. I probably shouldn't have given up on original dream but that's how it went down. Besides, my TRUE DREAM was still to write.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

The closest I've gotten to becoming an African American editor for a book publishing house was by making a main character in my latest novel MATTERS OF CONVENIENCE a book editor. I lived vicariously through Audrey. https://t.co/hwcoNKKYFA— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

I haven't formed a strong opinion one way or another on the need for sensitivity readers, though in general my feeling is 'the more jobs available in or connected to book publishing, the better'.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

But again, there are a minuscule number of African American book editors and literary agents in the field. As a writer, I accept the fact that I'll mostly be submitting to white men/women. As a person, I did my best to increase the # of black editors/agents by 1. It wasn't to be.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 28, 2017

Becoming an editor may have ended up being very frustrating to me. I want to create my own characters/stories/worlds - not help other people do it. Yes, it's hard to find black editors & lit agents. But it's also damn hard just to find readers. And still I strive...

The publisher knew who Yiannopoulos was when they gave him a $255,000 advance. The editor’s brutal comments are somewhat entertaining, but none of this should distract from the fact that they sought to make his bigotry both digestible and marketable. https://t.co/Ssg20zht0h— Jamil Smith (@JamilSmith) December 28, 2017

I tweeted earlier today on the topic of sensitivity readers. I suppose they'll catch some questionable content in manuscripts. But meanwhile book publishers also throw the bank at garbage like this periodically, "sensitivity" be damned. https://t.co/858gbdoIcl— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

https://t.co/2ftuUhlAQF Joyce Carol Oates isn't a sensitivity reader fan. I hope this doesn't offend you. I remain unconcerned.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

.@JoyceCarolOates I did start my own packaging company called @CakeLiterary. And @nytimes this is what happens when you reduce POCs as mere sensitivity readers in your article about writers. I get nonsense and harassment from entitled white folks. https://t.co/mKNAE7sgcg— Dhonielle Clayton (@brownbookworm) December 25, 2017

Next tweet has links to sensitivity reader articles. Those who dislike concept feel it veers too close to a writer's greatest enemy - censorship. Those in favor feel literature has been whitewashed for too long, & while we can't change the past, we can surely edit what's to come.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

Of course, it's one thing to feel that the existence of sensitivity readers (which if nothing else, perhaps we can all agree is a rather terrible job title?) is an example of Political Correctness gone too far rather than seeing it as an unfortunate necessity in an excessively lily white industry.  It's another to go as far as Tucker Carlson did. Not that his snide point is entirely without merit.

"'Can we no longer read ‘Othello’ because Shakespeare wasn’t black?' the novelist Francine Prose wrote recently in an essay about sensitivity readers and censorship in The New York Review of Books."

Prose may not be aware, but the answer to that question will soon be "yes."— Tucker Carlson (@TuckerCarlson) December 27, 2017

https://t.co/5ti8YR93Zq https://t.co/b45RmuuvlU My own opinion is that good writers have the empathy thing down so sensitivity readers aren't needed. Bad writers WILL screw up, but I won't avoid them b/c they're insensitive. I'll avoid b/c they're bad writers. Flawed foundation.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

A sensitivity reader can only declare you've offended them personally. They may say "this is offensive to black people" but we didn't all vote on it. We're not a monolith & aren't offended by the same shit. e.g. Some don't like that I wrote "shit" while others could give a fuck.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

What would sensitivity readers have advised Mark Twain about his top selling book? I think I can accurately guess based on this... A Line A Day: A kinder, gentler Huck Finn - SMH https://t.co/Ks2I0ey1sd— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

I've written arguments for N-Word usage https://t.co/FA2VCwlOcV and against it https://t.co/kgKD1KTKkl so clearly my own sensitivity ebbs and flows depending on the circumstances...including whether we're talking about fiction mirroring reality or reality itself.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

Back in 2007 I wrote about that time Hergé wrote "Tintin in the Congo" with less than stellar sensitivity. Borders (remember them?) handled the backlash in Solomon-like fashion. https://t.co/Z8la5tic2K— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

Time changes what's considered offensive versus mainstream. What was once called outlandish is now deemed tame. Good writing doesn't look to society's current etiquette rule book for guidance. It comes from the heart & gut, not from what somebody else feels is appropriate to say.— Roy L. Pickering Jr. (@AuthorofPatches) December 29, 2017

A post shared by Roy Pickering (@roylpickering_author) on Dec 24, 2017 at 10:16pm PST